When she didn’t say anything else, icy-cold unease trickled down his spine. “What’s going on, Dove?”
She lifted her chin, a hint of defiance making an appearance. Christ, she was beautiful, even without a lick of makeup on. He liked her best in her natural state, especially in her naked natural state, but clearly something was wrong. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be seeing her in his favorite naked state today.
“Do you have something you want to tell me?” she asked, her voice crisp.
“Uh . . . ” He searched his mind, which had been fully occupied with the various sexual positions he wanted to try out with Wren only a few seconds ago.
“Maybe about the fire?” she suggested helpfully.
Dread filled him. He didn’t like the overly pleasant tone of voice. Or the way she watched him, like she wanted to jump on him and scratch his eyes out with her fingernails. Fuck. Did she find out about the circumstances behind her house fire?
“I discovered that Lane was following me,” she said, giving him a pointed look. “And that the reason for his following me has to do with the arsonist being the one who burned my house down. He mentioned that he and West thought it was a good idea to keep it from me—and that you agreed.”
“I never fucking said that,” he said vehemently, making her back up a step. Damn it, he didn’t mean to sound so angry. “I didn’t agree with their decision to keep it from you.”
“Yet you did anyway. Even when you told me in the first place that the fire was arson.”
Right. He’d never denied it. So why was she angry? “I fully planned on telling you today. Right now.” Well. He would’ve kissed her first. Touched her. Dragged her into bed and given her a few orgasms before finally informing her of what was up. “I told Josh and I told your brothers it was messed up that they were keeping this from you.”
“But you kept it from me too, Tate.” He started to protest, but she cut him off. “I know you told me you thought it was arson right after it happened, but when they asked you to keep quiet about the recent details, you went along with them. And kept it secret from me.”
“I said I’d agree with their decision until I was off. The moment I came home, I planned on telling you everything.”
“You should’ve told me from the very first moment they told you. That’s what couples do. They don’t keep secrets from each other.” She turned so her back was to him and started shoving the rest of the piles of clothes into her bag. “I should come before them.”
“You do.” He went to her, touching her shoulders, but they stiffened beneath his hands, and he let them drop. “I knew it was a bad idea, keeping this from you.”
“So why didn’t you tell me?” She whirled around to face him, standing so close he could smell her. He wanted to bury his face in her neck and never let her go. “You should’ve fought harder to make your point. I deserved to know.”
“They were your brothers. I thought they knew best,” he said, knowing his reasoning sounded weak. Shit, maybe it was weak. She was putting doubt in his head, making him feel like shit, and he probably deserved it. But damn it, he never wanted to hurt her. He wanted to protect her.
Always.
“I’m a grown woman who can take care of herself. Clearly, the men in my life believe otherwise.” She turned toward the bed again and zipped her bag closed before grabbing the handle and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m leaving.”
“Where are you going?”
“To Delilah’s. She’s never there anyway, considering she’s always with Lane.” Tate stood directly in front of her, and she glared up at him. “Get out of my way.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Let me explain first.”
“There’s nothing to explain. You thought I couldn’t take care of myself. You’re probably right. So maybe I need to spend some time on my own until I can figure all of this out.”
“Figure all of what out?” He frowned, wishing he could keep her. He just wanted Wren. Nothing else mattered if he couldn’t have her in his life.
“This. My life. It’s kinda pitiful, don’t you think?” She flashed him a fake smile, then shoved past him, startling him so bad that it took him a second before he chased after her.
“Wren, don’t go.” He grabbed hold of her arm, and she turned to face him, the anger and hurt he saw blazing in her eyes nearly crushing him. “Let me explain.”
“Explain what? That you think I can’t handle the truth? That I’m just a pretty little girl who needs to be taken care of? I’m not scared of the arsonist supposedly targeting me. That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. What bothers me the most is that you didn’t side with me. You sided with my brothers. I never come first in my family, and I guess I don’t come first with you either.”
Jesus, how did this get so twisted up? He thought she might be mad that they kept this from her but not this mad. “You’re not being fair.”
“Neither were you. I deserved to know. You should’ve gone against my brothers’ wishes and told me. If you really . . . cared”—she stumbled over the last word—“you would’ve.”
He ran his fingers down her arm, but she jerked away from him. How could he calm her down and make her see his side if she was so angry? “I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step closer to her. “I fucked up. I never meant to hurt you, I promise. I just . . . I wanted to make sure you were safe. So did your brothers. We just wanted to protect you.”
“I don’t need this kind of protection.” She sniffed, and he swore he saw tears filling her eyes, but she blinked them away. “Good-bye, Tate.”
Before he could say another word, she turned and walked away from him, headed straight for the door. Headed straight out of his life.
And he didn’t know how to stop her.
Chapter Nineteen
“YOUR MISERY IS making me crazy,” Delilah muttered as she kicked at Wren’s foot. “Get off your ass, and let’s go for a run.”
“Hell no,” Wren muttered, shaking her head. She was sulking on the couch in Delilah’s living room, eating straight out of an ice cream carton and watching Judge Judy. It made her feel better that her life wasn’t as bad as some of the people who were on this trashy show, airing their dirty laundry for all the world to see.
“Then stop stuffing your face with ice cream, and talk to me.” Delilah sat next to her and swiped the spoon right out of Wren’s hand.
“Hey,” she protested. Delilah then plucked the carton of ice cream out of Wren’s other hand and set both on the side table next to her. “Give that back.”
“No.” Delilah shook her head, her ponytail swinging. She looked like her usual perfect self, dressed in a pair of black booty shorts and a pink sports-bra-top thing. She’d just come back from the dance studio after giving classes for the last two hours, and Wren wanted to punch Dee in her perfectly flat stomach. Ugh, her friend’s perfect body was just too much. “You need to stop sulking and start living. Look for a new place. Get your hair cut. Buy some clothes, plan a shopping day at IKEA for your future new place. Go out with Harper and me. Do something to get yourself out of your miserable head.”
A week had passed since she walked out of Tate’s house. Seven long, miserable days, and she wasn’t feeling any better about her rash decision. No, she felt worse. Maybe she shouldn’t have walked out on him after all. She probably should’ve listened to his explanation. She knew how overbearing her brothers could be. But she’d been so offended, so upset they’d think she couldn’t handle such bad news, she’d reacted instead of being proactive.
A habit she used to have when she was younger, thanks to her bossy older brothers. Their behavior reminded her so much of the past that she fell back into bad habits. Not a smart move. Had she lost Tate for good? He tried to call and text her the day she left, and the next day too. But then he went back to work—and his engine got called out on a big fire in Northern California. He was still gone, and she had no idea when he was coming back.
Had no idea i
f he would ever contact her again either.
And that’s what pushed her into the pit of despair these last few days. Where she never changed out of her pajamas and she didn’t wash her hair and she ate ice cream straight out of the carton. She was a pitiful mess who blew it with the best guy who ever could’ve happened to her.
“I don’t want to hang out with you and Harper. You two are sickeningly in love with my asshole brothers.” She was still irrationally pissed at West and Lane too. It was totally unfair on her part considering they’d wanted to protect her or whatever, but she couldn’t help herself.
The arsonist was still at work. Another fire had been started over the weekend. It was at an old abandoned cabin high up in the mountains above Wildwood, and there was no reason for someone to burn it down with the exception that it was just . . . there.
That’s what she told Josh Bailey when he came around to talk to her. “He didn’t want to burn my house down because I lived there,” she’d said. “He started the fire because he had the opportunity, and my little house was just . . . there. I lived on an isolated road. Not many people came out there, and I’d been gone all day. It was the perfect scenario for him.”
Josh had agreed, though he still wasn’t ruling out the possibility that she’d been targeted. Whatever. What was done, was done. She wasn’t going to walk around in fear. This was her hometown, for the love of God. She knew mostly everyone who lived here; most of them she’d known her entire life. She wasn’t scared, not of anyone.
What she was scared of though? The possibility that she could lose Tate forever.
This was her moment to start fresh, and she wanted to start with Tate by her side. Tate making her laugh, making her sigh with pleasure, making her feel safe. She didn’t want to lose him. She’d give up everything else if she knew it would mean Tate was forever in her life.
But she wasn’t sure if he felt the same way.
Delilah tugged on her hair, making Wren yelp. “You need to talk to Tate,” Dee said.
“I’d love to. But it’s kind of hard to do when he’s not even in town.” Wren sighed and stared at her lap, clutching her hands together. “He should hate me.”
“Please.”
“He probably thinks I hate him.”
“You’ll eventually forgive your brothers. Surely you’ll forgive Tate too?” Delilah asked.
“I have to forgive West and Lane. They’re my brothers. Family. They were just being their usual overprotective selves.”
“I’m guessing Tate was doing the same—the overprotective bit.” Delilah tapped Wren on the shoulder, and she turned to meet her friend’s gaze. “Isn’t it nice to know so many big brawny men are watching over you?”
Wren made a face. “Sort of. It’s more annoying than anything else. It’s like they don’t trust I can make the right decisions.”
“More like they don’t trust the weirdo who’s out there setting fires,” Delilah said. “It had nothing to do with you and your supposed inability to function in life. More like they just wanted to make sure you were safe. They care about you. Your brothers love you.”
“Yeah.” Wren plucked at a loose thread on her faded flannel pajama pants. “I love them too, even though they drive me nuts.”
“And what about Tate?” Delilah nudged Wren’s shoulder with her own. “I’m guessing your moping around has been over him.”
“You already know this.” She shook her head and sighed. “I probably blew it with him, huh?”
“Doubtful. He’s been on a fire. Not like he’s off getting drunk and seeking out other women.”
Ugh. She hated the image Delilah just put into her brain. But she knew it wasn’t true. Tate had been working the entire time since she last saw him. He wasn’t out finding someone else. Hopefully he was still thinking about . . . her.
A girl could dream, at least.
“Word on the street is that Tate’s engine is coming back to Wildwood later today,” Delilah said, sending her a look.
Hope lit a bright flame in her chest, making her heart thump. “Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not. West already told Harper, and she told me.” Delilah’s gaze swept over Wren, and she wrinkled her nose. “I think you need to go make yourself pretty so you can be at the station to greet him when he arrives.”
Wren leapt to her feet. “Does it matter if I look pretty or not? I mean, he shouldn’t care if I’m all made up with perfect hair and stuff.” If she remembered correctly, he seemed to like her best naked and makeup-free, with her hair a mess. He didn’t care if she ate burgers for dinner or ice cream for . . . every meal. He just seemed to like her for her.
“I’m not saying you need to go glamorize yourself. Just . . . take a shower. You kind of need one.” Delilah held her nose like Wren was stinking up the place, which made her laugh. “Go. Take a shower. Get ready for your man’s return home.”
By the time Delilah finished her sentence, Wren was already making her way to the bathroom.
TIRED. HUNGRY. DIRTY. Tired. Starving. Smelly. Those were the main words that kept repeating themselves in Tate’s brain, reminding him that he needed a break in a major way. He’d never been happier to be let go from a fire than he was when he left this one. It had been particularly brutal. He and his crew had covered the day shift, setting backfires to ensure the main fire wouldn’t rage out of control in rugged terrain. His muscles ached from all the climbing, and the weather was miserably hot, typical for late August. Worse, they’d had to sleep outside on the rocky ground, which sucked major balls.
He’d tossed and turned through most of those nights, pretending to sleep under the stars, too uncomfortable, his thoughts filled with Wren. He missed her. He wanted to beg for her forgiveness. Figure out a way to earn her forgiveness so she’d give him a second chance. A woman like Wren Gallagher didn’t just walk into a man’s life every day. She was special. Sweet. Smart. Beautiful. Funny. Sexy. Feisty. And at one point, she’d been his.
He wanted her back.
Once he got home, took a shower, and slept for a solid twelve hours, he would search her out, talk to her, and make her see reason. They belonged together. He missed his little dove, and he had a suspicion she missed him too. He couldn’t blame her for being angry with him, but if she could forgive her bonehead brothers, then she could definitely forgive him too.
“Ah, home sweet home.” Tori, one of the firefighters at the station who’d recently changed shifts and was now on his crew, sat up straighter in the passenger seat of the rig as they crossed the Wildwood town limits. She fought for the passenger seat more than any of the others, and he figured she got car sick, though she never admitted it. He noticed everyone else just usually let her have the seat. She was young and tough and a good conversationalist. He enjoyed talking to her while they drove, plus she had a good eye, so she’d spot the fire or the wrecked car or whatever faster than he did. She was a good worker, competent, and she’d shifted over to his crew effortlessly. She was a good fit.
“Glad to be back,” Tate said with a sigh as he drove through the little town. He took in the familiar sights, his heart and mind weary as he thought yet again of Wren. He hoped she was okay. He’d heard about the fire the arsonist set that destroyed an abandoned cabin just above Wildwood Lake, and while that wasn’t good news, at least nothing happened to Wren.
“Me too. I miss my bed,” Tori said.
“I think we all do.”
“They’re not going to keep us at the station overnight, are they?”
“I don’t know. I think everyone’s on staff. No other engines have taken off for another fire.” He’d had that happen before. Coming home from a fire only to be kept at the station for another week as coverage because they were short an engine. It happened all the time in the height of summer.
“Good.” Tori settled back against the seat and gazed out the window. “I just want to go home.”
“Me too,” he murmured, steering the engine through town, thankful he hit
every single—all two of them—green light so he could increase his speed as he drew closer to the station.
It was on the other side of town, near the lake and the surrounding day parks and campgrounds. The pine trees grew tall as they approached the lake, obscuring the water view until they were right upon it. It came as a pleasant surprise every time he saw it. That wide expanse of deep blue, the sandy beaches combined with the rocky shore. The giant hotel that sat on the other side of the lake, tall and grand as the late summer sun shone upon its roof, the US and state flags flapping wildly in the breeze from the rooftop.
He liked this town. More than anything, he liked the people in it. Since moving here, he’d made good friends. He worked with solid people. And he’d met a great woman, one he wanted to keep in his life, if she’d still have him.
The moment he eased up on the brake and turned right onto the fire station driveway, a sense of relief washed over him. They’d made it home safely. They’d need to clean the rig and get everything in order, but then he’d let everyone go home. He’d radioed in to West as they went through town, asking if they were still needed at the station. Thank Christ West had said they were released to go home.
“Isn’t that Wren Gallagher?” Tori suddenly asked, causing Tate to jerk on the steering wheel, making the engine sway. She sent him a curious glance. “You okay?”
“Fine,” he said gruffly, righting the engine as he tried to find Wren. Ah, hell, and there she was. Sitting on the hood of a car, wearing that same pretty pink dress she had on the night he first saw her naked. Her hair was blowing in the wind. A strand crossed her face, and she brushed it away impatiently, her eyes widening when she saw his engine approach.
Her gaze met his through the windshield, and she waved, a shy smile curving her lush lips.
His heart started to race. She was there for him. She was actually waiting for him to arrive. He thought the best thing that would greet him today would be his bed.
Instead, it turned out to be Wren.
Tate pulled the rig to a stop in front of the garage and turned off the engine, chuckling when Tori threw open the passenger door and exited the vehicle. He thought he was the eager one, but they all spilled off the engine, tired and happy to be on familiar ground.
Torch: The Wildwood Series Page 18